Do Raiders Dream of Synthetic Girls?
by AuraZero
Summary: "Good thing that happened on that fateful day was that he'd finally gotten himself rid of that fucker, Colter. Bad thing was that he got stuck with the girl. 'Well, maybe not that bad', he'd think sometimes, especially after the sex, but, you know… as said before, not exactly what he was hoping for. "
1. Chapter 1

At nights, she would always crawl into bed a bit later than him. She would cuddle him from behind shuffling her cold feet between his to get warm. He would then turn around and put her small body between his muscled arms, her buttocks now touching his crotch and his hand squeezing her tit, and they eventually fell asleep like that. In the morning, when his senses started to awake and his cock got hard against her warm, soft skin, he'd fuck her, sliding into her from behind, and boy, was it some sweet shit, what with her getting instantly dripping wet with his touch, and her little moans and sighs, her hands caressing him, making him so fucking hot he had to restrain himself badly not to come in and all over her.

These were all new shit for him. Up to that moment he'd never held a woman in bed more than the act of copulation needed to. It was in-out, come-and-go, off with you now, thank you very much. And the women themselves seemed to like it that way; or, to be more exact, he didn't really _care_ what the women liked. He just needed sex and they needed to be fucked, and that was that and everything was so simple.

But with this girl… Even before their first fuck, the image of her kept swirling constantly in his mind, especially at nights when she was still sleeping solo in the neighboring room and he was lying in his cot inevitably touching his aroused dick, but it was especially after that first fuck that he couldn't stop thinking about her, her butt-cheeks swaying from side to side in front of him when she walked, keeping him constantly distracted, and those pinches he felt inside his chest whenever he looked at her and she returned the look with that girly, sugar-topped smile of hers, and he didn't really know what they were and what to do with them.

Life was so much simpler, he used to think, when he didn't have all those feelings messing up his head and his mind, which he used to take so much pride into being clear.

He didn't think much of her when he'd first seen her. Not that she wasn't pretty or anything; in fact, she was the prettiest little thing he'd seen in a very long time. But under the circumstances, 'pretty' wasn't exactly what he was looking for. He was looking, or rather, he was hoping for someone strong, someone with a sane head between his shoulders, who would be able to listen to his advice and, hopefully, make something useful out of that bunch of idiots and psychos he was surrounded by. And he certainly wasn't looking for a woman either. A woman would complicate things. Not because she wouldn't be strong or sane enough, but because, unless she was a man-woman, like that Melody bitch, explicitly interested in other females, she would be bound to be a distraction. She would unavoidably end up in his bed, which wasn't a bad thing in itself if they never saw each other again afterwards, but if he was going to act as her right hand man, well then, no, not a good idea at all. Things would get weird afterwards, edgy. And, most importantly, he wouldn't have a clear head.

However, despite all his expectations, what he saw that day from the CCTV was a couple of half-assed kids trying their luck into the Gauntlet; he didn't even know what they wanted to accomplish with a tomfoolery of such epic proportions, but… that's what he was served and he had to go along.

Good thing that happened on that fateful day was that he'd finally gotten himself rid of that fucker, Colter. Bad thing was that he got stuck with the girl. _Well, maybe not that bad,_ he'd think sometimes, especially after the sex, but, you know… as said before, not exactly what he was hoping for. In the final showdown, her companion, a short, lithe guy who gained in agility what he obviously lacked in strength, proved himself more than capable. He got beaten up well, but he finally managed to finish off that scumbag Colter armed only with the Thirst Zapper and a laser pistol. All the while, the girl was either hiding or running away from the fight, probably scared out of her wits. She'd occasionally throw a grenade or shoot with that hideous 10mm pistol she was carrying and that was that. He wouldn't have minded having the short guy replace Colter, no, he wouldn't have minded that at all; he actually seemed to have some sense in his head and he was pretty capable in fight. But none of these really mattered. Colter did kick the bucket, but so did the little guy in the end.

It was one big mess. The Raiders who were watching the whole thing behind the railings had gone completely mad, screaming and yelling and throwing whatever shit they could find in the arena, the little guy was lying dead in the center, next to Colter (that fucker had to punch him in the head just before he went to meet his maker; an asshole till the end), while the girl was all over the dead kid, crying her heart out and giving weak punches on the poor dead boy's chest, ' _No, don't leave me, don't leave me',_ she was yelling or some shit like that. Meanwhile, it was up to him to clear up the mess – as always. He had to go over her, drag her reluctant arm off the dead kid's body, and raise it up to the air for every scumbag to see. "Here's your new Overboss," he said, while the Raiders spouted all kinds of abuse at him. He turned and looked at the girl and felt depressed. She was still in shock, tears and snot splotching up her face. ' _Hardly Overboss material',_ he thought. A fucking scavver _and_ a girl; the worst thing that could ever happen to him.

Back to Colter's private apartments (or what used to be his apartments, now that he was a goner), when the girl finally wiped her nose and her tears and managed to calm down, he had time to notice how attractive she was. That is, it wasn't as if she was an old-world, magazine-cover beauty or anything, but she had a healthy athletic body, a good pair of white teeth, and a cute face. That made her real pretty in his book. Oh, and she was quite tall, the top of her head reached his chin and she was someone he didn't have to stoop really low to talk to. He loved that; he loved tall girls – especially because there weren't many of them around.

But all of these mattered little. Pretty or not, she was still a scavver; and a girl, for fuck's sakes!

She was sitting uncomfortably at the corner of the battered red couch, sniffing her nose occasionally and looking at the floor. With one hand she was scratching the bandage that one of the slaves had wrapped around her injured arm. She had escaped with nothing, just a scratch and some bruises.

"So…" he decided to be the first to finally make a sound. "How old did you say you were?"  
She hadn't really uttered a word since the Gauntlet; he'd just said that as a witticism.  
"Twenty…"  
"What? Speak up, can't hear ya."  
A pair of hazel eyes finally looked up and met his gaze. "Twenty."  
"Mmm… Is that so? You look younger. Anyways, not that it matters now that you're here. I mean, honestly, what the hell you and your friend were looking for when you headed for Nuka World?"  
Upon hearing about the boy, she almost started crying again.  
"It… it was all Jeff's idea… he'd thought, maybe, we could make some caps out of it. I… I guess he… we were curious, too…"

"Well, haha! Curiosity killed the cat, haven't ya heard about that?"  
The girl looked at him with a blend of disgust and surprise. Yeah, it was pretty inconsiderate of him to say that and at that particular moment too. He thought of this once the words were out of his mouth though.  
"Anyways, that's gone. Now you gotta plan ahead. I told you I'd help ya back there in the Gauntlet and I did, didn't I? Otherwise, you'd both be goners. And now the rule of the land is that once you kill the Overboss you become the new Overboss. Do you understand this? I know this is all new shit for you and all, but I'm gonna be here guiding you through this."  
"Why… why me?"  
"Well, you're the only one left alive, aren't ya?"  
"I mean... even if Jeff was here, why… us? Surely, you could've found someone more competent... I don't think I…"  
"I just told ya, this is the rule of the land."  
"Well, I'm not interested. Find someone else; I wanna go home," she said, pouting like a displeased child.

"Haha!" he guffawed at that. _Where did this fucking bitch come from exactly? Does she think she's the princess of the Commonwealth or somethin'?_ "Well, why don't you try, sweetheart? But first let me get this straight for you: this is _Raider_ land. That's the biggest Raider settlement you've stepped into, intending on becoming even bigger. Those fucking idiots that were watching you behind the railings? As far as they're concerned, whether they like it or not, _you're_ the new Overboss now. Even if you didn't really lift a finger to become one, believe me, their brain is so muddled from booze and drugs that they weren't able to tell the difference. But: if you step out right now, _without_ being the boss… well, then, tough luck, honey. At best, you're gonna end up with a slave collar, like that poor sucker who was patching you up earlier. And, to be perfectly honest, I'm not entirely sure this is gonna be the best scenario."

The girl was looking at him all doey-eyed and saying nothing, but she didn't have to, everything he needed to know was passing through her eyes, surprise and confusion at first, then offence, and finally sheer terror. But then, her look suddenly changed to something else.

"You didn't help us; you set us up!" she said, getting up from the sofa. "You just wanted that guy dead and you used us!"

She was angry now and he liked that more than her previous cowering self. Anger was good, it led to useful things.

"Well, congrats, lady. This was a big set-up from the beginning, but you should've known better than to stick your nose in Raider territory, shouldn't you now? And, by the way, I _did_ help you: I helped you stay alive, don't you forget about that. And intend to keep it that way, if you help me out too."  
"Bullshit! You're keeping me a prisoner, that's what this is!"

"Call it what you want, but I'll tell you what. This is gonna be mutually beneficial if you're smart. You practically don't have to do anything. Just follow my advice and say the right things to the right people and as soon as things start to pick up I'll personally help you out of here, I promise you that. Just _pretend_ you're the boss for a while; things will be fucked in here if these morons don't have a leader over their heads."  
"Oh, right, you've figured everything out so nicely – so why don't _you_ become the Overboss then? You obviously have the skill, why have me as your puppet?"  
"Nah, being Overboss is not my style," he said simply, lowering his gaze a little guiltily. "Being Overboss means you have your head on the line; but if I can be the man _behind_ the Overboss, guiding him – _her –_ then this just suits me fine."  
She looked at him incredulously. "So, you mean, _I'_ m gonna have _my_ head on the line for you? Is this what this deal is? And this is supposed to be beneficial for me, how?"

Her cheeks were flushed now and her eyes were sparkling. _So, she's got some fire in her. That's good, that's real good,_ he thought.

"Just… Look. I'm gonna have your back. I know this sounds ridiculous coming from a guy who just betrayed his last boss, but I'm being honest here." He pushed a dish with cooked dog meat towards her. "Listen, I'm dead beat and I'm betting you are too. Have a bite and get some rest and we'll talk in the morning."

Just before he closed the big double door of the Overboss's suite behind him, he turned to her and said, "And don't do anything stupid."

And she really didn't. She was real smart after that introduction. Probably cried her eyes out that first night and hardly got any sleep, but the following morning, when he took her along to meet the three fractions' bosses she was perfectly composed and calm, and played the role alright. _Smart girl_. Of course those big-headed assholes could see her for what she was: a scared scavver girl. She's put on a false bravado, like he had instructed her to do, but they'd obviously seen through this and mocked her for it. However, they wouldn't dare do anything to her, not as long as he was on her side. And they knew better than to disobey the Raider law, at least not at that moment, they wouldn't. The girl patiently took in their insults and taunts and she did what she was best at: she talked. And he realized just then that her biggest talents were words and wits. She talked and talked, and used strange words so eloquently that in the end it was almost mesmerizing; none of them could talk so well. Hell, not even _he_ could, and he thought he was one the most eloquent Raiders he knew. So, in the end, that bunch of illiterate monkeys was convinced that she would be their leader and savior. They still expected her to pass the test and grant them territory, though. And this was the hard part, the physical part. No fancy words would save her there.

The test was for the Overboss to do what that asshole Colter had postponed for ages: clear out the four main territories and distribute them to the gangs. It was a tough call, but in the end the girl managed to go through with it. They would both set off with as many firearms and ammo they could carry and they'd return back to their base torn and bruised and bloodied. They'd just lick their wounds and come morning they'd set off again.

In those days, he would just fall on his cot exhausted and slept a dreamless sleep for a few hours to gain back his strength. No question about any thought except survival, let alone thoughts about her. He wasn't sure when exactly he actually started to think about her, but he did at some point, no matter how hard he tried and how many promises he'd given himself not to. And how could he not anyway? Not only was she young and healthy and able-bodied; she was totally different from any kind of female he'd come across so far. Raider women weren't much different from wild animals; dirty, feral, and coarse. Sure, some of them could give him a hard-on, but eventually he was disgusted by their stupidity and vulgarity. He found them too similar to the men and maybe this was the most disgusting part. Scavver women on the other hand… those disgusted him even more. And let's not start about settlement broads either; they might have been plumber and healthier than all the rest of them, that was true, hell, some young'uns were even kinda pretty to look at, but boy if they weren't pathetic cowards, ready to shit their pants whenever Raiders would come in, claiming what was theirs by sheer force. In short, they lacked character, and spirit, and that's what he was looking for. And anyway, none of these sheep would even consider glance at Gage; they were as much afraid and disgusted by him as he abhorred them himself.

At first, he thought that the girl must have come from a settlement too, though there was always something off about her, about the way she carried herself, about her smooth, soft skin and her clean teeth, something that gave him a hard time placing her somewhere familiar. He was too stupid back then to realize she used to be a Vault dweller. Only Vault people had this alien air about them that made them stand out from any other Commonwealth resident. Inevitably, her soft and girly manners, the way she talked and the way she walked, the way she held the fork and ate small delicate bites out of the shit they had for food, the childish, enthusiastic way her eyes sparkled towards anything new, drew him towards her like the bright light draws a moth. After all, she was a real woman among all those sub-women he was used to being around; a feminine oasis in a desert full of hedgehogs. He couldn't realize it back then, but he really didn't stand a chance.

Funny thing was, he had the impression that she actually liked him too. Not that he had ever run short of female affection, despite that missing eye of his – or perhaps, _because_ of the missing eye. But all the women he'd met and been with were his equals; and with that girl, it was the first time in his life that he felt that someone – that she was out of his league. So he was genuinely surprised when she started giving him some furtive looks at random moments, when he looked up from whatever chore it was that he was doing and caught her looking at him with those pretty hazel eyes, and then suddenly she'd turn her head and look elsewhere. Or when she touched his arm for no apparent reason, while she was telling him something, and that little hand of hers lingered on his skin, and the waiting was for him insufferable.

Of course, she wasn't like that in the beginning. In the beginning she was mostly sore, at him and at everything else, but, he'd give her credit for that, she got the work done. But as time went by and they had to spend time and break bread together, they had to patch up each other's wounds, and watch each other's back, he felt that they had inevitably come closer. In the beginning he was fleetingly worried that she'd stab him in the back somehow, but he quickly dismissed the thought: and then what for her? She'd have signed her own death sentence if he wasn't around. Maybe she'd like to kill him later on, but not then, not while she was held in Nuka World. So it was really comforting to have someone he knew he could rely on, someone who'd watch out for him, even if they did so from sheer need.

It must have been during that time, after they'd spent some time together doing missions for the gangs, that he'd felt that strange tightness in his chest whenever they went back to their base and they had to sleep in different beds. When she was caught in a tight corner, hunted by some creature of that God-forsaken land, and he got worried that something bad would happen to her. He, who didn't care about anyone and anything, bar his own well-being. He got pissed off with those feelings that were somehow imposed on him, coming from who-knows-what unknown, forgotten place inside him, because they were making him weak. But, no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't get rid of them. When the pressure inside him was too much, he'd just tell himself, 'Gage, you damn idiot, just jerk off and get over it.' But once the next day came, and she'd innocently rub her naked shoulder against his, leaving it there, on his skin, a bit longer, he would get drowned by those fucking feelings again.

It was her who decided to start the whole thing in the end. He was disciplined enough not to, no matter how hard the thought of her writhing naked body would make him at night. It was the day when they'd finally cleared out Safari Adventure from Gatorclaws and that had marked the end of her test as an Overboss and the control of the whole Nuka World by the Raider gangs. They'd finally made it; in less than one month, they'd completed the task that asshole Colter hadn't even started in two years. Understandably, they were both thrilled; exhausted, aching, and dirty, but thrilled all the same. When they'd reached their base up at Fizztop Mountain, she'd said, "Let's have a drink." As a rule, he didn't drink and he didn't let her do so either. He was against both booze and drugs because they "dulled the senses," as he used to say all the time. Just like feelings; one could say he was against them too. So when she looked at him with those eyes, hazel like his own, and said that, he was tempted to say 'no' once again, but then he thought, _Hell, why not? Why the hell not? We kinda deserve it for once, don't we?_

So he found an ancient bottle of whiskey, Westland American Single Malt, aged 210 years, and they drank. They ended up stooped over the counter in the middle of the room, drunkenly exchanging memories from their common adventures during that past month. Her eyes were watery and they were shining. At one point, she placed her hand on his arm and forgot to take it away. He didn't push it away either. At some point, he felt he wanted to take her slim waist inside his arms and pull her near him, feel her warm, drowsy body against his skin and inside his mouth, and then fuck her real-real good and hard. Instead, he got up and staggered towards his room. "I'll see you in the morning, boss," he said. He didn't turn his head to look at her; he just closed the double door behind him.

It was after several minutes had passed and he was comfortably lying on his back on his small cot, with only his leather pants on, his right hand placed on his dick, but too tired and sleepy to do anything with it, that he heard the latch of the double door clicking and heard footsteps inside the room. She glided towards him and sat at the corner of his bed and he immediately sat up.

"You alright, boss?" he said. Her cheeks were flushed, probably from the booze.  
"Yeah, I'm alright, it's just that… it's just that… I'm cold out there," she said groggily. It could have been true as well; one of the big windows had been broken for some time now. Her shiny eyes said something different, though. "Can I just lie next to you?"

"…or you could sleep outside in the big bed with me…"  
He sat up a bit more and pulled his legs out of the bed. He felt like his chest was burning.  
"Oh _come on_ , boss… What _is_ this shit? Let's try and keep it professional, shall we?"

She frowned at that and got up. She was hurt. And at that moment, while she was angrily heading back towards the door, he felt bad. And where an earlier Gage would just turn his back to her and snore, he found himself getting up, running to her, and grabbing her by her slender arm. He made her turn full circle and pulled her to his bare chest. He felt her tits pressed against his skin. He was holding her tightly by both arms now, looking down at her cute little red face.

"Is that what you want, boss?" he said with a low, drowsy voice.  
She placed her hands on his chest and softly raised them up to his shoulders and around his neck, and said, "Yes, _that's_ what I want," in the sweetest voice possible, dripping both desire and a kind of innocence at the same time, something truly irresistible and novel for him. He muttered something incomprehensible and took her lips into his, pressing her so close to him that he thought he would squash her limbs, shoving his tongue so deep inside her mouth as if he wanted to suck the whole of her, mouth, lips, face, and all. His hands moved towards her butt and he grabbed those round cheeks of hers and pulled her up to his waist. She wrapped her long legs around him, urgently pushing him against her crotch. He seated her on a nearby desk and he fumbled with the button of his pants because his dick was so stiff it was almost painful. Suddenly, he saw the girl climbing down from the desk and taking the initiative to help him out of the pants, and then getting down on her knees, the look on her face one of genuine enthusiasm that she'd get his cock in her mouth, as if she was about to munch squirrel-on-a-stick.

Much to his own surprise back then, he said, "No, you don't have to do this, boss," and immediately held her by one arm and pulled her upright. She looked at him puzzled, but she smiled nonetheless. Her lips were moist and red and sore all around. She giggled and said, "Do you still have to call me 'boss'?", placed her hand on his cheek, feeling his stubble, and kissed him. "Mmmmhmmm…," he went, smiling, and laid her flat out on the desk. She was still wearing her clothes, those tight leather pants that he loved so much because they enveloped her ass so beautifully, and a stained tank top, torn at the edges, that let her nipples stick out from inside the fabric like two tiny mountain tops. She squirmed and writhed hurriedly to get herself out of the pants as he was pulling them down and, after he released her from her panties too, he went down on her hungrily. She held his head down, pushing him inside, while he stuck his tongue deep into her dripping wet pussy and his lips moved as if he would devour her, and her moans were dribbling so much pleasure that he thought at one moment that his dick would explode, he just couldn't hold himself any longer.

He wasn't one who would normally go down on women, or deny a blow job for that matter, but on that specific occasion he genuinely felt like giving her head, not so much because he wanted to pleasure her – after all, he was rather inexperienced in the act, as said before - but because he selfishly wanted to enjoy her wet cunt. If he somehow was made to describe his impression of that whole encounter, he might have said that he was just overcome with the desire to eat the girl – quite literally. Which also explained why he denied her generous offer for sucking his dick, though he would compensate her for this on the following days.

He pulled himself up rather quickly though, not being able to restrain his pulsing cock any longer, lifted her into his arms again, shoved her against the wall, still facing her, and went inside her, slowly at first and then pumping up the rhythm more and more, with his face tucked inside the curve of her neck, and her whispering, "yes, baby, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," in his ear. He was simultaneously overcome by a feeling of relief for his aching penis and the unbearable torment of having to restrain himself from coming inside her.

When his arms got tired, he let her down and she, once again taking a lovely initiative, placed her hands on the desk and turned her bare round ass to him. She even turned her head and looked at him, smiling. "Aw fuck…," he muttered before placing one hand on her left butt cheek and sliding himself into her, while the other grabbed a lock of her long brown hair and pulled her head slightly back. He rode her like this for a while, pausing at certain points when the need to ejaculate was becoming too urgent, and went back on again. Her sweet little moans didn't help much restrain himself either. But no, he wouldn't allow that to happen. Since things had come to this, he would go all the way until making her come; _She's my boss, after all; I'm supposed to serve her_ , he thought at some point and he almost laughed out loud.

"Let's go to bed - more comfortable," he muttered eventually and he wrapped his arm around her thin waist, pulling her towards his humble cot, but she stopped him:  
"What? There? Oh come on, let's go to the double bed!"

But of course, the double bed. The bed where that swine Colter slept and farted and fucked his women, while he, Gage, had to fit his large body into that goddamned cot in the adjacent room. _Haha, that would serve him well,_ he thought, _if he could see us somehow from whatever fucking place he's in now. Me, the one who sent him to hell, fucking the prettiest Raider woman ever – and Overboss - on his fucking double bed._

She ran hurriedly to the other room, throwing away her tank top and spreading her legs wide for him, and he shoved his head between her firm breasts, kneading one in his hand and sucking the other, while he humped her pussy away until she came with several spasms. After a while he also came ecstatically - on her tits. He couldn't risk having any 'accidents', especially not ones that involved the boss. If indeed an accident were to happen, it would mean that she would be exiled from Nuka World until the whole thing was over and done with. It happened all the time. Occasionally, the fathers went along with the women, but that didn't happen very often. Some of them did come back eventually, but some didn't. He figured they had either decided to leave their unlawful, drug-fueled life behind and raise their kid in one of the settlements, or they had been killed along the way. Either way, it was tough, but it had to be like this. It had happened with some of his women, too, and for some fleeting moments, the thought of little Gages prancing about in the Commonwealth had crossed his mind; but those thoughts dispersed quickly, like cigarette smoke in the air. And he never bothered himself with them again.

The morning after, he found himself spread out on the double bed with the lush red covers, and her curled up beside him, with her head placed comfortably on his chest. They'd been like this all night and his right arm, the one that was holding her, was stiff and achy. Contemplating about their previous wild night together, he felt bad and cursed himself for being stupid, and for letting booze take control of him. But then again, being essentially a positive person, he thought that maybe he needed that sexual release from the pressure that had accumulated inside his mind – and body – and that now he would be free of irritating thoughts about her and they would be both ready to focus on the most important things in life: getting more caps and getting control over the Commonwealth. He was an ambitious man.

Sadly, he was wrong. Not only did he not get rid of the obnoxious feelings he had about her, but he felt they grew stronger and more controlling over him with every passing day. Their main task of conquering the entirety of Nuka World being over, they felt freer and more relaxed on the subsequent days, almost solely dedicating them to an unrestrained exploration of different ways to fuck. In the rare occasions that he had to run errands and be away from her (he had to get out of bed at some point, didn't he? And they _had_ to eat something, for fuck's sake!), he felt tormented by her absence. _That's how being addicted to Psycho must feel like_ , he would think, and he'd curse himself and his stupidity all over again. But there was nothing he could do, no Addictol to cure that kind of addiction.

One morning, more specifically the morning when he was planning to take her to meet Shank to make the necessary arrangements for their conquering the Commonwealth, she sat up on the bed and, in a feigned casual tone, she announced that she would take her leave from Nuka World and, consequently, from being Overboss. Gage, who was still lying naked in bed, jumped swiftly and stood opposite her.

"Seriously now? Are you serious or are you just yanking my chain?" he said irritably, putting on his only pair of leather pants at the same time. He didn't want to look angry _and_ ridiculous, with his junk all over her face.  
"Yes, I'm serious. You promised. You had told me, when I first came here, and I quote, _just pretend to be the Overboss for a little. And then I'll personally escort you out of here,_ end quote."  
He started pacing back and forth in the room, lifting his arms angrily.  
"Aw, _come on_ now, Lo! I thought we had something here! Yes, I might have said some shit like this, but… that was _before_. I thought we were having a good time…" That last sentence was said a bit guiltily, while he was looking down at the floor, as if he was ashamed of them actually having a good time.  
"We _do_ have something here," she retorted, "and we _are_ having a good time. I didn't say I'm leaving _you,_ I said I wanna leave Nuka World. I was never past the fact that I was held in here despite my will. The missions? I went along because I had to, I never enjoyed doing this, not for one bit." She paused and she also lowered her gaze and spoke more softly. "I… I only enjoyed being with you. So what I'm saying is, I'd be happy if you came along with me…"  
Now he asked her for a second time, for lack of a variety of verbal expressions: "Are you fucking serious, Lo? You want me to go along with you, where exactly? In whatever fucking settlement you came from and what? Be a farmer?"  
At that, needled by the abuse and his angry tone, she stood up too and looked him in the eye.  
"There's a lot of things that you could do out there. You're a rough guy, I admit it, but you're also good, somehow, I can see that. And clever. You don't belong here with all those psychopathic idiots. So if you love me…"  
"Aw Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed, despite not really knowing to whom that pre-war exclamation referred. "What is it with you and this _fucking_ word? You know very well that I don't believe in this soppy shit. I believe in actions, though. And _yours_ speak volumes."  
"Well, yours too!" she exclaimed angrily. "You know why I'm leaving? 'Cause I don't really enjoy spending my time killing and torturing people!"  
He pursed his lips at that and gave her an icy cold look. "OK, then," he said calmly, crossing his arms in front of him, "fuck off, see if I care. And good luck with the rest of your life. Betcha it ain't gonna be a long one."

 _What a hateful thing to say,_ he would later think, with some regret.

"Well, fuck you too!" she said with moist eyes. She didn't really have anything to take with her, except her old gear and a couple of weapons she'd looted in their missions, so she quickly picked these up and slammed the double door behind her. And that was the last time he saw her in Nuka World.


	2. Chapter 2

Of course, contrary to what he said, he did care. And in the most masculine of men, like him, the burden of caring about someone who's no longer with you is unbearable, because all those feelings that go along with it, the anger, the longing, the regret, cannot be funneled through tears or conversation. These two were certainly out of the question for Gage, so the feelings accumulated once again inside him, like a sickness, and the only way to give vent to them was through fury, through the desire to kill or hurt anyone and anything in his way. He went on like this for about a month, roaming Nuka World in a constant state of rage, always on the edge, like a mine that's about to explode at the slightest touch. Meanwhile, the Raider gangs had grown restless without an Overboss, with each of the leaders itchy to sit on the now unoccupied throne and eliminate the rest. It was all a big mess and he had grown tired of playing the referee. Eventually, and in view of all these, like a Psycho addict's will submits to his habit, his ego got smashed under the force of his longing, and he decided to get out and look for her. Maybe, he thought, maybe he would be able to turn things around; maybe he would be able to make her see things like _he_ wanted her to see them. Even if this failed, however, at least he would lay eyes on her again, and hopefully touch her skin one more time.

During their time together, she'd told him that after she had decided to get out of the Vault where she was born, and roamed around a bit, she had finally settled on a place called Little Pine. She would sometimes reminisce about her peaceful life there, about the friends she had made, about growing the land, and shit like this that made his stomach turn. He would mock her by calling her friends "a bunch of sheep in need of a herder," and then she'd be angry and shut up. But she was rather cute when she got angry and that's mostly why he did it. So anyway, he figured that she would probably go back to that ridiculously named place, and he headed there.

After three days walking under the relentless Commonwealth sun and asking around, he finally found it. How he longed for one them big, fortified settlements, like the one in Bunker Hill, where you could find some fine food, 'cause he was sick and tired of eating grilled molerat all the time; instead, he arrived at a small shitty shantytown that reminded him of the one he grew up in. But if this is what it took to find her…

There was just one pimply boy up on a crudely made guard post to greet him. _If all settlements are as poorly guarded as this one, taking the Commonwealth will be a walk in the park,_ he thought.

"I'm only here to find someone! A girl named…" he yelled to the boy who was pointing his rifle towards him.  
"Just… just hand over your heat, mister!" he snapped, leaving him mid-sentence.

He unslung his shotgun from around his neck and gave it to the kid. He followed him with stern eyes to see where he'd store it. He was almost tempted to say, " _Don't fucking get it wet, or I'll break your neck,_ " but he restrained himself, not wanting to create a fuss just yet, and then his chances of seeing her would be really slim.

He walked along the main street of the little town. It was early afternoon and everything was really quiet, there were hardly any people around. He saw an old man in a torn leather hat sitting on a wooden platform, resembling a porch of some kind.

"Hey Pops, you know if a girl named Lo lives here? Tall, brunette, half-shaved head…"  
"Lo? As in Dolores?"  
"Yeah, that's it."  
"As in… Lola? Lolita? Dollie?" the old man went on, before he burst into drunken laughter. _Jesus,_ he thought, _I'd have half a mind to shoot his head off if I had my heat._ Instead, he tried to keep his calm and said:  
"D'ya know where I can find her?"  
"She ain't here, boy. She's out with th' others, tradin'. But she'll come along, don't ya worry now," he said, adding a little cough-laughter.

Gage just stood there, looking around, not knowing what to do with himself. Last time he was in a settlement with some of the boys, it was for looting and scaring those sheep off into giving them more of their yield. Every time he did that, he felt accomplished in life. He used to see Raiders scare off his own family when he was a kid and he'd sworn he wouldn't end up weak and cowardly like they were. Being now in a position to trample those pathetic farmers down with his boot meant that he'd achieved his goals.

But here he was now, just standing in the middle of that shitty town, like a green kid. _Let's hope this is gonna be worth it,_ he thought.

"Hey, boy, d'ya have a drink? A smoke?" the old man behind him asked.  
"Sorry, Pops."

Gage looked at him. He must have been, what? In his sixties perhaps? It was very very rare that he would see a man this age and he thought he could take example from him.

"Pity…" the old man said and spat a gob of phlegm.

On second thoughts, the man was a wino and a dotard. He wanted to live long, but not end up like this.

"Say now," the old man went on, while Gage was kicking dust with his boot to pass time, "ya got the hots for our little Dollie? Got yourself a taste for synth flesh, haven't ya?" He laughed.  
"What?" Gage turned to face him wide-eyed. " _What_ did you say?"  
"Haaaha… But ain't she fooling us all? Just like a real girl, she is…"

At that point Gage's hand found itself at the old man's throat, pinning him at the wooden wall behind him, despite him being an old guy and all. There had to be some respect for people who had reached that age.

"What did you say, you old fart? You're lying! You're gonna regret this!"

The old man went 'Grrrrlllgglll…" and suddenly Gage felt various hands on his shoulders and round his waist, pulling him away. He released the old man's throat, whose face had turned purple by then, and got free from the hands with a couple of elbow back strikes.

"Stop it!" he heard a familiar voice say.

He turned and saw two men standing in an invisible circle around him, gawking at him as if he was a Deathclaw. He also saw her, on the side of the dirt road. She gave him a glance, but she ran quickly to the old man who was down on his knees on the floor, coughing his heart out, and started yelling, "What did you say? What did you say, you old fool…?" The old guy muttered a weak "I'm sorry, Dollie," in-between the coughs. She then turned to the two guys and said, "It's OK guys, I know him. He's… an old friend." So they let them be. The sun was about to set by that time. "Let's go home," was the only thing she told him. He said nothing. He just followed her.

When they reached her small shack and went inside, she turned to him and said, "I'm so glad to see you," different emotions passing through her glistening eyes. In his eyes, though, there was only rage, and he could barely contain it by a thin thread.

"Is this true?"  
"What?"  
"Stop fucking playing with me! What the old man said. He said you're a synth. Is it true?"  
The corners of her mouth drooped downwards and she got a desperate look about her face. And after a pause of five seconds, which seemed to have lasted a lifetime, she said:  
"Yes, it's true."  
"You fucking told me you were a Vault dweller!" he yelled exasperatedly.  
"Well, what _else_ could I have said? I was trying to survive… I knew I looked different, this was the only plausible story I could come up with. Listen, Gage…"  
She tried to touch his shoulder with her hand, but he moved away.  
"Don't fucking touch me!" He passed his hand over his face. "Jesus… And to think I came all this way here, for… I don't fucking believe this, this can't be happening…"  
"Does it make _any_ difference?" she asked, half-ashamed, half-angry. "I'm just like you, I bleed, I hurt, I… feel. I'm not a machine inside. I was just not born like humans are… That's the _only_ difference."

"I've been thinking of you all the time…," she added.

Gage wasn't looking at her. He was looking down, on the small shack's wooden floor. He suddenly turned around and headed towards the door.

"Don't go…," she said.  
"You fucking liar…," he replied, under his breath. He opened the door and went outside, on the dirt road. It was almost dark now. _Don't look back,_ he said to himself, _don't you fucking dare to look back at… this thing._ He gazed at the road ahead, beyond the settlement's entrance. It was silent and quiet. Like he would be; alone, once again. No body to keep him warm at night, no person to talk to after a day had passed and he was still alive. Surrounded by idiots and with no one with half a brain to understand him.

 _How could this even be possible? I saw her blood, I even fucked her, for fuck's sakes. And I wasn't able to tell the difference, any difference…_

He looked back.

He saw her behind the glassless window of the shack, sitting on a chair and crying, her face buried in her hands. _What machine cries like this? She doesn't even know I'm standing here looking at her._ He searched in his back pocket and found one cigarette. All these were too much for one day.

Dolores heard the wooden floor creaking. Then she saw two black boots, smudged with dried dirt, standing in front of her.

He crouched to be at her eye level, put the cigarette in his mouth, and asked her, "Hey, you got a light?" She looked up at him, her eyes puffed and red from the crying. _These ain't machine eyes,_ he thought. _Pretty eyes. Hazel, like mine_.

* * *

Thanks for reading this! :)


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